


Simplicity

by stardropdream



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-18
Updated: 2016-03-18
Packaged: 2018-05-27 13:15:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6286135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardropdream/pseuds/stardropdream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And that’s what does it.  That’s when Aramis knows he’s in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Simplicity

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on tumblr for the prompt "hand-holding".

It is not the heat of sex that does it – not the moment when Aramis slides into Porthos’ space, hidden in shadows, leans in to touch at him, the sharp heat beneath the leather and braies. 

It is not the slide of his mouth to his, after countless hours, only kissing – only mapping out the spaces between where he starts and where Porthos ends. That does not do it. 

It is not the gasping aftermath, mouth open in ecstasy, breathing out a harsh breath that meets against the huff of Porthos’ own – that is not what does it.

It is not the feeling of being filled, of Porthos inside of him, coming inside of him – of feeling so critically, so completely connected. That is not what does it. Nor is it when Aramis slumps down, sweat making his hair cling to his forehead, breathing harshly, knowing he is not beautiful but Porthos combing his fingers through his hair as if he is—

It is not falling asleep in his bed as if it is natural. That nearly does it, but note quite. It is not the promise of more to come, in the weeks that follow. It is not the way Porthos’ smile takes on a new heat when it is just him in Aramis, or when they are in a crowd and it is an understanding between the two of them – the way Porthos’ lips quirk up at the corners. It is not even the way a passing touch to his elbow, the small of his back, the briefest exchange as they hand off weaponry and ammo—

No, what does it is the simple act of Porthos reaching out and taking his hand. It is a chilled Sunday in early spring. It is threatening snow and Aramis has been looking out the window for what feels like hours as Porthos practices his letters. He is thinking, thoughtful, a Bible set beside him but long forgotten. He breathes in – then out again. His breath is warm enough against the outside air on the other side of the window that it begins to fog up.

And then Porthos reaches out, covers his hand with his. Aramis looks, but Porthos is studying his letters with the same level of intensity he always devotes to his learning. His hand doesn’t move. But there is a color to his cheeks. 

And that’s what does it. That’s when Aramis knows he’s in love. 

He looks at their hands. Breathes in. Smiles. Then turns his hand so that he can thread their fingers together, lacing them up, woven and unbroken. Porthos smiles – and Aramis knows he is in love.


End file.
